Miami – Wedding 2

The bride is tiny
and adorned in an embroidered gown
that I know is heavy.
I know because I placed it in the box
before it was sent to her
wrapped carefully in tissue.

She glitters and sparkles.
The light from the camera flash is
bright and false.
Her smile however is real
and as warm as the Miami sun.
She steals glances at the groom
who sits with nervous stiffness.

The pictures go on and on.
At the end,
the groom asks us to stand with
them for a formal picture.
We had wanted to spare
them the time it would take,
both of us flattered
that he cares,
that it is important
to him.

He loops his arm around
my husbands shoulder.
I reach over and give
his wrist a reassuring squeeze.

Her family is very religious.
and they are marrying
having not ever actually spent
any time together
face to face without a chaperone.

I wonder at the mystery of it,
the courage involved.
I find the chances he is taking brave,
and I wonder if he is delaying a little too.
So much weight on that moment,
to be alone with her.
in spaces only theirs.

What would such a first kiss be?
Delayed,
long months
to a late night
exhausted
wedding eve
bliss.

What if such a kiss
has no heat?
I think I am too big a coward to risk such things.
Courage cloaks his shoulders,
and oh her smile,
her smile when she turns toward him,
makes me understand why she is worth it.